


Falling

by Delatrista



Series: Miphvali Oneshots [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Mipha: ...huh, Mipha: it can't be because he likes me, Mipha: wow Revali sure is being nice to me I wonder why that is, Mutual Pining, and we're back folks, more rarepair extravaganza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27879621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delatrista/pseuds/Delatrista
Summary: Mipha breathed in, her eyes locked on the shimmering golden light.Revali exhaled.The bomb arrows flew downward with the snap of a string.
Relationships: Mipha/Revali (Legend of Zelda)
Series: Miphvali Oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046662
Comments: 8
Kudos: 78





	Falling

Being a species closely related to aquatic life, Mipha had assumed prior to the Champions’ latest tour of Hyrule that she would be right at home among the endless waves of snow which cascaded down the expansive mountain ranges and into the great plains of the Hebra region. It was, after all, only another form of water. And though she may not have been able to swim in it, she had thought that, surely, she would find it to be not that much different than the cool water streams which covered her homeland.

She had not accounted for the unfortunate reality that her species was, in fact, not inclined to survive for long in such an inclement and unforgiving environment, unaided.

Even despite that particular detail, she had no illusions that the homeland of the Rito wasn’t gorgeous, and she genuinely enjoyed every moment she had spent thus far among the wild terrain, though it was worlds away from the artistry that she had grown up with. Unlike the gentle slopes and bubbling rivers she had always known, this was a land where its harsh landscape and endless expanse of pure white fields were was as breathtaking as they were was dangerous. Lizalfos could easily camouflage themselves into the snow dunes, and the herds of Great-Horned Rhinoceros which roamed the plains were certainly not to be trifled with, despite their passive nature.

In the places where the snow did not touch the earth, great formations of tan rock dominated the horizon, and she passed the days walking beneath them in awe at how much nature still commanded this part of Hyrule. She spent hours talking with Princess Zelda about the ancient, crumbling ruins which dotted the tops of the monoliths, and fantasizing what they must have been like in their prime was among her favorite ways to pass the hours.

But the beauty she beheld didn’t change the fact that she would have been likely freeze to death unless she had accepted the oversized coats and scarves that had been piled onto her by Princess Zelda, and her entourage of knights, as their group made the ascent towards the main settlement of the Rito race.

In truth, she felt rather ridiculous in the mismatched white jacket and multi-colored fabrics which now blanketed her frame. Fashion had never been a concern of hers; her people had always cared little for conventional Hylian clothing, preferring their silver adornments over cotton and silk. Even in the winter, the heat of their luminous stones was enough to wash away all but the harshest of winds and snow, and as such she had never needed much in the way of protection from the elements. 

But despite this, she acknowledged the rather embarrassing fact that she currently resembled some strange sort of plush Bokoblin, more than a refined princess of the Zora, as she toddled unsteadily up the hills and across the rope-bridges which steadily wound a path up towards their final destination.

Her sole comfort was in Princess Zelda’s assurance that the Rito excelled at making clothing for all races on short notice, and specialized in keeping their customers warm with their own feathers. Tourism, she had come to learn, was this region’s main attraction, and the Rito had adapted brilliantly to the surge of visitors who annually came to visit the wild frontier.

Perhaps she could pretend she _wasn’t_ Princess Mipha, until such a time where she could be provided more suitable garments. Her eyes could barely peek out of a gap that had been left by a few scarves which had been tied around her head, and her torso was well hidden by Zelda’s spare jacket. Her legs, too, were concealed by a hefty assortment of various spare clothing. Surely no-one would be able to recognize her through the coverings?

That prayer was dashed when Urbosa— who had actually planned accordingly for this trip and had swapped her typical armor for heftier garments— had leaned down and whispered, although still quite loudly, “We’re almost there, Your Highness. Be ready.”

If Mipha had been raised as anything less than a crown princess, if she had been primed to be something other than the penultimate representative of her people’s reputation and authority, she would have groaned in disdain at the embarrassment she was about to endure. She could have sworn Urbosa sounded like she was enjoying this little exercise in learning one’s lesson on traveling into a perpetual winter wonderland.

Instead, she ground her teeth, clenched her claws tighter into the coat she held shut around her shoulders, and resolutely set to climbing the dark brown staircase which served as the final entryway into the Rito’s largest village.

All around her, she could hear voices murmuring from outside the cocoon she was encased in, and she did her best to follow their lead.

Bird-song flitted gently around her head, though she couldn’t tell from where. She couldn’t see much through the scarves; they were beginning to fall in front of her eyes, and as the group seemed to continue ascending up numerous flights of stairs, she gave up on trying to find her way around through sight. She didn’t dare remove a hand from her jacket in order to adjust the annoyance, however. She feared the jacket’s flaps would fly open if she did so, or even worse, someone would recognize the red-scaled hand which would pop out from beneath the shapeless lump she currently hid beneath.

That potential would simply not be acceptable.

But she just kept bumping into things! As she continued to unsteadily waver her way forward, she could discern the jut of a soldier’s armor on numerous occasions, the thin press of a railing against her side on others. That latter occurrence disturbed her. What if she fell off the edge? Would there be water below to catch her, as she had heard from the tales of the expansive lake which surrounded the Rito capital, or would solid ground be waiting to break her bones?

It was a rather disconcerting thought.

No-one seemed to take notice of her plight, however, and she wasn’t inclined to make someone aware of it. She was already mortified enough, looking like this, without calling someone to her aid. She was a princess and a Champion; she could make her own way.

Still, she glowered through the thin red-and-yellow sheen of the scarf which was finally draping permanently across her eyes. Why didn’t Daruk have to go through this, too? The Gorons were just as notoriously against Hylian and Gerudo clothing as the Zora were, and yet this entire trip he had plodded along as if he were none the wiser to the fact that he didn’t still walk beneath Death Mountain, instead of passing through a frozen tundra.

Her footsteps padded louder on the cool wood, even as she fought to stop herself from stomping. She had to remember that she still had a reputation to maintain, even if it was currently in the form of the tatters which wrapped around her small frame.

She wasn’t sure how long the group had been moving for, too focused on making sure she didn’t accidentally wander off a ledge or push _someone else_ off a ledge, in her endeavor to walk unimpeded. When she eventually came to a stop, however, it was with a soft, “Oof,” escaping her lips as she walked face-first into someone’s back. 

She quickly backpedaled, and prayed that the person she had run into wouldn’t bring attention to what had happened.

Thankfully, that one was answered. She breathed out a sigh into the scarf over her mouth, and she shivered miserably when she finally realized that they had made it to their destination.

She was excited to see the way the Rito lived, truly. When Princess Zelda had first approached her with the idea of the Champions personally visiting their colleagues’ respective homelands, she had whole-heartedly supported it, had even offered her kingdom as the first destination. And thus far, the exercises in cultural exchange had gone off brilliantly. Following the spring festival of her own people, Zelda and the rest of the Champions had travelled north to ascend the perilous volcano which the Gorons called home, and they spent two weeks watching the mountainous tribes engaging in brutal wrestling matches.

Of course, no-one had bested Daruk during the competitions. Even Link hadn’t truly stood a chance, but Mipha had still found it endearing how he still threw himself into the stone-and-metal ring with the same fervor he afforded for full-scale battles against the endless scores of monsters which plagued the land.

But at least on Death Mountain, she had known to be prepared for the intense heat of the lava that would have surely burnt her to a crisp without a steady supply of fireproof elixirs, and plenty of trips to the famed Goron hot-springs, to keep her safe. She hadn’t been so informed for the situation she currently found herself in. 

As she stood in the faint light that filtered past her coverings, she tried her hardest to find the best of the situation. Sidon’s scales had almost turned green with envy when he realized he wouldn’t get to go along with Mipha on this trip across the world; she wanted to recover that child-like wonder, and claim it for herself. After all, when was the last time a Zora had intermingled with their species’s distant cousin, in their own homeland? Plenty of Rito travelled throughout Zora’s Domain at all times throughout the year. She couldn’t recall the last time she had heard of one of her own people visiting the distant mountains.

It would be far easier to enjoy herself if she could actually _see_ that homeland, though.

More voices rose up around her a short while into her quiet fuming, the most prominent being that of Princess Zelda’s polite tone. Mipha couldn’t tell whom the princess was addressing, but she assumed they must have found no reason to move elsewhere, seeing as no-one was prompting her to continue walking forward.

And so she stood silent within the gentle ebb and flow of conversation, waiting for her cue to move once again, while the people around her continued to engage in discourse which she couldn’t fully discern.

Given that she would have nothing to provide to the talks, her eyes focused solely on the offensive scarf which was concealing her eyesight, and she scowled at it as if it had personally wronged her. Perhaps, if she tried hard enough, she could push it away with sheer force of will, without the need to reveal herself to the outside world.

As if prompted by her thoughts, the piece of fabric obscuring her vision lifted away suddenly, allowing bright sunlight to stream into her cocoon.

Mipha blinked and squinted against the light, and her limbs went rigid in disbelief. 

Did she really just move a scarf with her mind?

The answer she received was a resounding _no_ , when she realized a pair of emerald eyes were peering at her from beneath a large, indigo wing which was holding up the scarf above her head, pinching it with two large, white-feathered fingers.

Revali looked as though he was trying extremely hard not to laugh in her face as he took in the full display of a Zora princess keeping herself safe from the tundra within a pile of donated clothing. The corners of his beak turned considerably upward the longer he looked at her, and his brows lifted ever higher over his eyes until the yellow plumage looked like they would take off into flight of their own accord.

She silently urged for that to happen. Maybe he wouldn’t have the chance to make fun of her if he had to go chase his wayward eye-feathers.

“Hello, Revali,” she said. Her voice came out as a defeated sigh, rather than a polite greeting.

“…Well, Your Highness,” the Champion said in return. He still held the scarf in his grasp while he spoke, and Mipha half hoped he would let it fall back down so she could hide away from his amused scrutiny. “This is certainly an… _interesting_ way of getting around.”

Even though Revali couldn’t see anything other than her eyes, Mipha’s lips still turned into a frown. “I was…ill-prepared for how cold your region is,” she explained. Her voice was muffled through the scarves over her mouth. “The princess and her guards were kind enough to offer me their clothing until we reached the village.”

Revali hummed once she finished, and quickly tilted his head to the side. He, thankfully, remained silent, although Mipha shifted uncomfortably underneath his full attention for a few moments.

“The princess…said that there are tourist shops here?” she finally asked, and she didn’t try to keep the hope out of her voice as she spoke. She was truly desperate.

Her fellow Champion’s eyes widened as he realized what she was thinking.

“There are,” he said, and she knew he understood what she had left unsaid. He considered her for another moment, before he unceremoniously let go of the scarf, allowing it to drape back down over her eyes. She held back an indignant yelp as she felt herself being spun around, and unceremoniously pushed forward.

At her back, she could hear the Rito’s voice saying something, but she had no idea what it was, or if it was even being directed towards her. She decided that wasn’t her primary concern, and instead did her best to focus intently on not tripping down the stairs she was being directed to descend.

As she walked— or _waddled_ , as the case may be, but she wouldn’t admit to the latter even if being forced to— two firm weights settled on the bulk which vaguely outlined her shoulders while she stumbled, and every so often they would urge her to turn left or right, and to halt and proceed as needed. She counted three flights of stairs that she walked down, in the quiet and the dim.

Eventually, the weights tightened their hold, and she drew to a stop as they disappeared from her shoulders a moment later.

She held herself still as she waited for her next direction, and credited herself when she didn’t flinch against the sudden intrusion of sunlight into her shelter once Revali lifted up the scarf once again.

He went further than just that, however, and before she could ask what he was doing, he was unravelling the entirety of the formation covering her head.

“Why did we stop?” she asked, and tried to shake her head to signal she didn’t want to have her protective, warm covering removed.

Revali didn’t answer immediately, and only waited until the entirety of the scarves had been removed before he held up a glass bottle by its neck, filled to the brim with a strange orange liquid. The container was dwarfed by the sheer size of his wing, and Mipha stared at it in blatant confusion while he looked at her.

The cold mountain air brushed across her the expanse of her head fin, and she shivered against its touch. She could feel herself growing sluggish in the mere moments she was spending exposed.

“Spicy elixir,” Revali said, and precariously shook the vial to demonstrate what he was referring to. “This should tide you over until the shopkeepers can get you something better to wear than this…abomination.”

A long feather poked towards her chest, and she did her best not to stumble backwards.

She kept her face impassive while she snaked her arm out from beneath Zelda’s jacket. The delicate webbing on her forearm waved in the cold breeze, and her hand immediately grasped onto the bottom of the glass that Revali was offering to her.

It was strangely warm, she realized, once her fingers curled around it. The sensation spread quickly underneath her scales, traveling up her arm while she held onto it, and it was a welcome feeling after so many hours spent just barely keeping shivers at bay.

But as she stared at the unusual elixir she was struck, with the suddenness of a summer storm, by just how _small_ she seemed against Revali. She stared at his wing for a moment, comparing it to the way the size of him engulfed the thin line of her red arm, and for a moment she felt unusually nervous as she stared, brazenly, at him.  


Despite being in his home town, he remained just as armored as she saw him during missions and training. Orange light bounced softly off the steel of his breastplate, and she could vaguely make out her own reflection from between the swirls which were embedded into the metal, and the light leather spaulders adorning his shoulders seemed to glow against the deep blue of his feathers.

Then, her attention shifted towards the arm which was still stretched towards her. The end of his wing could likely encompass the entirety of her torso. She could almost picture it, as she felt his grip on the vial loosen to give it over to her.

She shook her head to clear that image from her mind. It was…probably just jealousy. He had all those feathers to keep him warm, after all, and she eyed the ones in question with a curious stare. 

“Where did you get this?” she asked. She stared at it dubiously as small bubbles rose up from within the liquid, to keep her mind off of the intrusive thought. “I can’t imagine your people have much need for something like it.”

Revali rolled his eyes, and huffed as if she were inconveniencing him with the question. She didn’t know how he expected her to know the answer, though. 

“Our general store is well-stocked with these,” he explained, with a haughty sigh. He held his wing out to gesture somewhere vaguely away from where they stood, as if that would be enough to show Mipha what he was referring to. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of Hylians who show up unprepared for their sightseeing trips into the mountains. Some are so impatient they can’t be bothered to wait for our tailors to get them something more permanent.”

“I can believe it,” she countered softly. She finally released her hold on Zelda’s jacket in entirety, in order to extend her other arm out of the protective shell and uncork the bottle.

The moment the cork popped out of the neck, a strong smell of mingling spice and smoke hit her senses. Her tongue curled at the prickling sensation the scent elicited, but she brought the glass to her lips with no complaint. She was a princess, and certainly no child; and she’d rather be dead than caught complaining in front of Revali. He would never let her live it down.

She swallowed a mouthful of the thin elixir before she had to stop and gag.

How could a liquid _burn_ like that? It scorched across her tongue, blazing down her throat hot enough that she felt like it was lighting her up from within, and the only thing worse than that feeling was its taste; something she could only compare to eating pieces of charred firewood directly from a fire pit, intermixed with generous quantities of mud and stone.

Daruk probably wouldn’t have minded it at all.

She wasn’t sure what expression must have crossed her face as she clenched her eyes and teeth, but in front of her, she could hear Revali trying— and failing— to stifle a sardonic chuckle at her reaction. 

But even with the offending existence that the elixir led, she was already feeling its effects, even from that lone sip. The warmth curled out through her limbs like streams of bubbles rising from the ocean floor, and she shuddered against the sensation as the bulk of the heat settled in the pit of her stomach.

She opened her eyes, and held back a glower as she took in the sight of Revali hiding his face behind a fisted wing, while he peered at her over his clenched fingers.

“Well, I’ll be plucked. I never imagined I would get to see a princess choke on her own drink,” he teased.

If she _hadn’t_ been a princess, she would have smacked his wing.

Instead, she smiled at him, and shuffled the weight of her borrowed clothing off of her shoulders in silence. Then, she demurely kicked them into a small pile at her feet. She would have to make sure she delivered the articles back to their respective owners with plenty of words of thanks to accompany it.

She looked at the rest of the elixir which was left in the glass, and found that well over half of it was still sloshing in the container, while its strange bubbles still fizzled in its depths. If she rationed it, she guessed she could likely make it last until the next day.

Then, she finally raised her gaze to take in the surroundings behind Revali’s shoulders.

They stood within an open building, with round fencing encasing them and a domed roof over their heads. The dark wood made the enclosure feel even smaller, while small orange orbsmade of cloth dangled from the apex of the ceiling to illuminate the woven rugs which were generously strewn over the floorboards. 

She took a small step forward to inspect a trio of Hylian-shaped mannequins which lined one wall of the room, and she took great interest in the beige clothing which adorned the dark wood statuettes.

“Master Revali!”

Mipha spun on her heel at the sound of the high-pitched voice, which arose from a point behind her shoulder. Her eyes darted first to her companion, who still stood by the pile of clothes she had left behind, just as his head turned away from her. Then, she followed his gaze, and her attention landed on a tall Rito stood in what seemed to be the entryway into the open room.

The Rito’s feathers were dark, and in the dim orange lighting, the brown of them appeared almost black. Although Mipha wasn’t terribly familiar with Rito biology, she guessed the newcomer to be a woman, from the way her form seemed to mirror the narrower frames of the Zora women, and the elaborate red and white fabric which was strapped over her chest. After a moment, she strode into the room, and her talons clicked softly against the wood before they were muffled by the thick carpets cast over the floor.

“Ati,” Revali greeted. Mipha’s gaze slid back to him, and she watched as his head swiveled to follow the Rito’s— Ati’s— path. 

“My apologies,” Ati said quickly, “I had no idea we would get visitors today, although I did hear the princess’s delegation had arrived…” Her attention remained on the Rito Champion for a moment, and Mipha wondered briefly whether she should speak up and make her presence known, before the woman’s head tilted, and her yellow eyes landed on the Zora princess. They widened astronomically, almost comically, when she registered Mipha’s presence.

“A Zora?” she exclaimed, and then her eyes landed on the bright azure sash which draped over Mipha’s torso. She smiled when Ati seemed to realize who, and what, she was. 

“Your Highness!”

Ati looked like she didn’t know whether to bow or kneel as she almost squeaked out the acknowledgement.

Mipha couldn’t help the soft laugh which trickled forth from her lips. “Please, there’s no need for formalities,”she urged quietly, and her eyes shifted over to meet Revali, who was watching the interaction with a quirked brow and crossed wings.

The Rito woman didn’t quite look like she believed Mipha’s insistence, but she was quick to recover from her shock, and darted towards the wooden counter which faced the doorway she had entered from with no further delay.

“Well, this certainly isn’t how I thought my day would go! Welcome to the Brazen Beak. How can I help you?” she asked, once she had reached her destination.

Mipha turned partially to face the mannequins on display, and her mouth opened to explain what she was hoping for.

“The princess is looking for some clothing for her stay,” Revali said.

Her mouth snapped shut, and her head turned to face her companion. He steadfastly kept his attention away from her, however, more focused on looking at Ati.

What was going on? Was she dreaming? Mipha knew that she had always hoped Revali would become more open and personable with the rest of the Champions, but she never could have anticipated this. In all the time she had known the Rito Champion thus far, he never struck her as the type to go out of his way to be so…cooperative. 

She would never have expected him to personally lead her to what appeared to be a clothing store, or to acquire something as simple as an elixir for her use, and she certainly wouldn’t have pictured him sticking around to _help_ in her endeavor.

Yet here they were, and Revali had done all of those things she had silently listed, while she couldn’t fish out the words swimming circles in her brain, in order to question him on his motives.

So she continued to stare at him, more than slightly dumbfounded, while Ati nodded along with the Champion’s explanation.

“We don’t get many Zora visitors,” she began, and the easy flow of her voice belied a sense of sheepishness, as if she were personally at fault for that statistic, “but I can easily get something together for you. With your permission, I’d just need to get your measurements, Your Highness.”

Mipha blinked, belatedly realizing Ati was addressing her. She was too busy staring at Revali to notice, it seemed.

She pointedly ignored the strange, warm sensation overtaking her face as she turned away from him to face the Rito woman who she assumed, from the interactions thus far, was the one who ran the business.

“Of course,” she answered with a smile. 

Ati reached behind the counter, and drew back her wing a moment later with a yellow roll in her grasp. She approached quickly, and gestured for Mipha to raise her arms out at her sides.

“I must admit, clothing isn’t something I’m familiar with,” Mipha said, while the woman stretched out the roll over the length of her limbs.

Her measurer clicked her tongue quietly as she spoke.

“I had heard that the Zora don’t wear much,” Ati replied. She murmured something to herself, before she draped the measuring tape down the length of Mipha’s torso. “I’ve always wondered why that was.” Moments later, she wrapped the tape around her upper arm, and then her wrist.

“We don’t see a need for it…we spend much of our time in the water, after all. It would just get damaged too quick.”

“I see…” Ati encircled her waist with the tape, and then moved towards Mipha’s legs, where she quickly took account of whatever length she found them to be.

She spent a few more minutes in relative silence. The only sounds to be heard, aside from the gentle bird-song which continued to echo through the air outside of the shop, were Ati’s talons as she circled Mipha with quick movements and eying her with a precise, hawk-like stare, and the woman’s voice as she continued to whisper to herself, making note of each individual measurement she came up with.

Eventually, she stepped back, and Mipha felt her shoulders relax once the presence was gone from her personal space.

“That’s all I needed! I’ll have your attire done by the morning,” the shopkeeper announced, with a soft snap of her bright yellow measuring tape. It coiled into itself, and the woman set it back onto the counter once it had finished moving.

Mipha turned to face her. 

“Thank you,” she said, her voice warm. “How much will it be?” She realized, as she asked, that she had neglected to keep her traveling pack with her, which contained the funds she had been allotted for this trip from the royal treasury. She hoped Link had held onto it like she had asked, back when she had first been wrapped in her cocoon of jackets and scarves.

“Nothing,” was the reply.

She blinked, and wondered if she had misheard that answer.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly—”

The Rito woman was already waving her off, her eyes closed. “There’s no need. You’re a friend of Master Revali, and you’ve been doing more than enough to earn this free of charge.” 

Her eyes returned back to the Champion in question, who had moved to lean against one of the room’s pillars. She was surprised he was still here; she wouldn’t have been disappointed if she had looked for him only to find that he had gone off to engage in things he deemed more worth his time; more specifically, endless cycles of training, flying, and more training.

Yet, here he was, and he shrugged once he noticed her attention on him, as if to say, “What do you expect me to do?”

Well, for one, Mipha had hoped he would insist that Ati deserved to be paid for her work. 

When that didn’t happen, she focused back on engaging in that particular battle herself.

“I must insist,” she urged. She smiled, hoping it would be enough to sway Ati away from such generosity. “I’m really no different than a regular customer!”

But Ati only shook her head, and the small beads woven into her feathers clinked quietly together with the movement. “I’m afraid I must put my talon down on this, Your Highness,” she said, and then she laughed. “Ha! I can’t believe I’m arguing _against_ getting paid. But truly, I’m asking you to please accept this as a welcome gift from everyone in Rito Village.”

Mipha stared at her in silence, and absently worried at her bottom lip as she tried to think of a way of arguing in the Rito’s favor. Perhaps it was too much to decline something like a gift, and Ati likely knew that as well as she did. Maybe…she could come up with an excuse to pay for it, regardless? Perhaps some quaint— and very much not real— Zora tradition involving the recipient repaying for the gifts they have received…?

“You’re not going to get anywhere with this,” Revali sighed. He finally pushed himself off the pillar he had been leaning against, and Mipha stared at him as he crossed the small room to stand beside her, when she had to crane her head up in order to keep her attention on his eyes. “Ati’s going to make your order whether you like it or not. You may as well give up on trying while there’s still daylight.”

Mipha felt a frown grow over her mouth as she acknowledged his words. “But…”

“She’ll be back to get the order before the competition tomorrow, Ati.” Revali continued as if she hadn’t spoken. Then, he abruptly spun on his heel, and Mipha took a quick step back to avoid getting smacked in her legs with his tail feathers. She felt rooted to the floor as she watched him pace towards the entryway, and her head turned to the side to look at Ati, who looked similarly taken aback. 

Revali glanced over his shoulder when he finally realized Mipha wasn’t right behind him. “Do you want to be able to find the nest you’ll be staying in for the night, or not? I’ll gladly let you wander around if that’s what you prefer…”

Mipha trotted forward at that prompting, but first moved to collect the bundle of clothes off of the shop’s floor in her arms, while being careful to not drop the bottle of spicy elixir she still held in her hands.

“Thank you Ati,” she called out, once she had gathered the pile as best she could. She couldn’t quite see past the sides or the top of the multicolored heap, but she hoped the shopkeeper could hear her from behind it. “And, it was nice to meet you!”

“You too, Your Highness,” the woman said to her back, as she slowly felt her way towards where Revali stood.

She kept going until she could turn her head to the side and look at him. 

His eye darted from her face, towards the pile in her hands, and then he shook his head. A deep sigh escaped his beak as he shut his eyes.

“Honestly…must I do everything?” he muttered, and before Mipha could realize what he meant by that, a dark blue wing had darted to her arms, and the weight she held lessened considerably.

She stood still as she registered that he had grabbed a wingful of the small mountain, leaving her able to see over the remainder she held while she watched him continue to walk out towards the walkway.

..:|:..

The next morning, once Mipha had managed to untangle herself from the hammock she had been provided, she made her way towards the Brazen Beak, as Revali had instructed her to do once he had shown her the inn which had been cleared out solely for the Champions’ and Princess Zelda’s use. 

The walkways were fairly empty, and as she passed by various homes…or nests, as Revali had called them, she realized that the village remained largely asleep at this early hour, despite the fact that the sun hung fairly high above the distant peaks of the mountains.

It was…peaceful. As she walked, Mipha felt as though she could spend hours in the village, roaming the wooden paths and trailing her fingers over the cool stone which the settlement was anchored to, as she was currently doing. Her eyes traced the landscape which met her from overtop the delicate balconies which boxed in the ledges, where in the distance surrounding the village, she could observe smaller tan pillars rising out of the expansive lake which surrounded the Rito capital. 

Atop the structures, patches of green grass blanketed the surfaces. In the faint morning light, the water far below the village appeared nearly black, and she was sure it would have been freezing to the touch if she decided to go for a swim in it. But its lure was still strong; she had a desire to see what the underwater world of Lake Totori beheld.

Even the air itself felt different. Lighter. It settled over the village like a shroud, hiding it away from the rest of the world with gentle layers. Mipha breathed deep of the cool mountain breeze, and drifted in silence along the wooden walkways, retracing her and Revali’s footsteps back to the Brazen Beak.

When she walked into the clothing shop, she was greeted with an empty room, and a full set of clothing, which had been carefully set out across the shop counter.

She moved to inspect a thick, beige-colored jacket first, and carefully lifted it to study the wide, deep orange flap which overlapped across the breast, accented with small white triangles along the edges. She felt a smile grow on her lips when she saw that the Zora insignia had been etched into the flap with white stitching, as well. Dark leather covered the fabric along the torso, with thin strings of rope tying it in place. 

When she lifted it into her hands it unraveled to its full size, and immediately she could see that it perfectly aligned to her longer proportions. She smiled, slow and soft, as she admired the pale, geometric patterns of blue and red layered within the beige fabric.

“Oh,” she said quietly. She ran a hand over the impossibly soft, snow-white fluff which lined the collar of the jacket. She dipped her fingers down into the interior of the jacket, and found it entirely layered in the insulating feathers. “This is gorgeous.”

She was beginning to see the appeal in clothing, as she took in the craftsmanship which had been performed in such a short period of time.

She knew she would likely be hearing about this later in the day, but she couldn’t in good consciousness accept such a gift without giving nothing in return. She reached into her travel pack which she had collected from Link the previous afternoon, and counted out what she hoped was a sufficient pile of silver rupees to leave on an empty shelf behind the counter. Then, she returned to her newfound treasure.

The provided jacket and pale trousers seemed, admittedly, quite bulky. It wasn’t something she would want to wear regularly, but it would be a vast improvement over having to drink that awful elixir Revali had provided for her use over the course of the previous day. She had already finished the few remaining drops of it this morning, and she was still feeling the deep chill settling into her blood despite the meager protection the magical drink provided.

She noticed that nothing resembling boots, or even shoes, had been provided for her, but she didn’t mind that at all. Her eyes darted down to her webbed feet. Her face wrinkled in distaste at the thought of wearing something so constrictive, and she figured she would be more than fine with the clothing she had been given.

She slipped into the clothing with ease, and sighed in relief when the down feathers slid across her scales.

As she went about getting dressed, she looked down into the dark, inner layer of the trousers, and she stared curiously at the unusually shadowed feathers.

Strange, she thought. Weren’t the down feathers used for her jacket white? Why were the ones on the inside of the trousers tinged with a faded, deep blue?

..:|:..

Revali and his compatriots would be performing a maneuver which had been prepared solely for this visit, as Mipha had come to learn.

Hours after she had collected her clothing from the Brazen Beak, she and the other Champions stood a safe distance away from the edge of the chasm which occupied the center of the Flight Range. She figured it made sense that there was little space to walk, here, given the name; but it _was_ becoming rather crowded, with Daruk pressed against one side of her, while Princess Zelda, Urbosa, and Link fanned out along her opposite side. Along with them, numerous gatherings of Rito citizens and Hylian knights crowded wherever there was available space, and in quick time, the Flight Range had become filled to capacity with onlookers.

“You look much more comfortable today, Mipha,” Princess Zelda said quietly, leaning over to murmur closer to Mipha’s ear. 

Mipha turned her head slightly, and nodded. “Revali helped me find a clothing store yesterday.”

She heard Zelda laugh, disbelief coloring the soft song of it. “Hm? Revali _helped_ you?”

Mipha felt a smile tug at her lips. “It surprised me, too. Perhaps he’s finally having a change of heart?”

She did still wonder why he had gone so far out of his way to do such a thing, though. It wasn’t something she had ever encountered from him before, and it was a pleasant surprise, to be sure…she hoped that what she had said in jest to the princess was true. It would be so nice if Revali finally decided to get along with the rest of the Champions. Her eyes darted to peer past Zelda and Urbosa, seeking out the bright blue tunic which would signify Link’s presence.

She fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, but tried to remain careful of tugging out the soft down feathers with her claws, as she looked at the Hylian Champion.

Just the sight of him still made her want to melt.

But as she looked at the boy-knight, she knew that no matter how helpful Revali may have been yesterday, she couldn’t picture him doing such a thing for Link. Or even the other Champions. She frowned, and then leaned back to stare out over the vast gorge which took up the Flight Range.

She never got an answer from Revali when she had asked him why he had helped her so much the previous day. The closest she had gotten was a scoff, and a warning to not take his generosity for granted, because as he so succinctly put it: “I could just as easily have left you to waddle around the village.”

She was glad he hadn’t, of course. But why would he help her, if he wouldn’t extend that same courtesy to the rest of their fellow Champions?

Her stream of thought was cut short when, out of the corner of her eye, dark marine flickered and slowly grew more prominent, like the surging of the tide underneath a summer storm.

When she turned her head to face it, she saw Revali, slowly making his way down the path which led into the Flight Range. 

He seemed perfectly uninterested in the crowd which had picked up in volume once his presence was made known, and seemed more busy in adjusting the bowstring of his famed Great Eagle Bow, tilting the pale purple weapon to inspect it with rapt focus while he walked.

He continued forward without acknowledging the murmurs of his name. Her attention stayed on him, following his path, and taking in the sight of his Champion’s scarf whipping in the wind at his back.

His gaze darted up, just as he passed in front of the Champions. His eyes met hers immediately; almost as if he knew exactly where to look for her.

Before she knew what was happening, Revali strode over to her, with no acknowledgement given to their colleagues once he stopped a few paces in front of her. His emerald-green stare darted across the clothing adorning her, and he hummed a strange sound.

“I see you got what you needed,” he said.

Mipha nodded.

“We’re looking forward to this performance, Revali,” Zelda spoke up. Mipha’s head shot to face her; she had forgotten the princess was there.

“As you should,” he said back. “It’s not every day you get to witness what true mastery looks like.”

Her head shifted back to face him, and she felt her brow furrow when she noticed that he was looking at her as he spoke those last few words.

She didn’t get the chance to ask him what he meant by that; he was already done with the conversation, and had turned to continue his journey towards where his fellow performers were arranged by the single wooden hut which occupied a balcony, hung out over the depths of the cavern.

“Well, enjoy the show,” he said in lieu of a proper goodbye, and it sounded like he was trying not to laugh as he tilted his head to the side, tossing the suggestion over his shoulder as if it were trivial, a mere afterthought.

Mipha stiffened. Was he speaking directly to her?

The narrowing of the single jade eye fixed on her from over his shoulder seemed to indicate he was, and she hesitated in stepping away from him, even as he began to move for the group of Rito who were waiting for him at the other end of the clearing.

What was it about him, she wondered while staring at the formidable bow he held in his wings, that made her want to speak far more boldly than she ever would around anyone else? What was that feeling he seemed to stir beneath her ribcage whenever he challenged and boasted and taunted, the feeling which clenched tight within her now as she watched his back retreat from her at a leisurely pace?

“I’m sure I will,” she finally said back, her voice raised in order to cross the distance between them.

Revali halted in his steps.

She refused to look away from him when he spun incredibly, unexpectedly quickly to face her, even though the emotion in his eyes was indiscernible while he studied her. Whatever it was, it weighed heavy on her own shoulders, while she stared at him.

He seemed to be at a loss for words. Though, Mipha wondered if that were ever truly possible; Revali kept an endless supply of harsh barbs in his quiver, always ready to unleash a verbal tirade at a moment’s notice just as quickly as he could draw his actual weapons of choice, and with just as much intent to harm.

And yet they stared in silence, with only the sound of the wind rushing by at their sides to fill the space between them.

The strain grew increasingly palpable as they stood apart. The breeze strengthened to a torrent of wind that threatened to topple her over, but she remained resolute with her bare feet digging into the stone and the snow as Revali looked no more perturbed by the pressure.

It was becoming unbearable, the longer he analyzed her for something she couldn’t pinpoint. So she did the only thing she knew, to dissolve an oppressive tension: she smiled at him, with her lips pressed together and her eyes closed. Her head tilted to the side, and all she heard was the rustle of her jewelry in the wind.

Revali tsked, and her eyes parted at the sound. She watched as he seemed to shake his head clear of something he had been previously occupied with, before he returned to his walk across the remainder of the Flight Range.

The urge to say something further bubbled forward before she had the good sense to push it back down. “Good luck,” she called out to his back.

He didn’t turn around, that time.

..:|:..

The demonstration was simply _breath-taking._

Rito darted and weaved around each other as if it were second-nature, as if they could sense where one another would be without even needing to look. Implicit trust in their companions to not collide with them, to not skewer them with the hail of arrows which flew.

There had to have been twenty of them, easily, all of them moving in perfect synchronicity to make arrows rain down like water into the brisk winds which surged up from the wind tunnels which hid in the walls of the Flight Range. Mipha watched in awe as she briefly focused on a pair of pale green and blue Rito twirl around each other, soaring further and higher into the air before they halted, and exchanged the bows they held in their talons, and then loosed two arrows which whistled through the air towards the center of a target dozens of feet below them.

It was truly skillful. But, none of the performers were as captivating as Revali.

Wherever he flew, the wisp-like clouds parted cleanly in his wake, like an arrow slicing through wood. Like waves splitting around a boulder at sea.

She found she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He commanded the air itself; the wind was at his beck and call, as he twisted and dove in graceful arcs with the merest of gestures. Everything about him stood out in sharp relief against the soft gray of the afternoon sky, where hues of deep blue blended with malachite, with vibrant splotches of yellow, with pure and crisp ivory, all of it coming together to obscure everything else that may have had a chance of capturing Mipha’s attention.

Another whirlwind rose out of the gorge below like a heavy gasp, a first breath after so long of holding it in, bursting into the open sky and carrying with it the small pebbles and withered leaves that had collected at the bottom. Her eyes tracked Revali with rapt focus as he, too, noticed the fresh gale far beneath him.

He hovered higher than the rest of his fellows, coasting on the tops of the pillars of air which rose up beneath him. Her hands, clasped over her chest, shifted closer to brush against the jacket which covered her.

He flapped once, angling himself forward, and Mipha waited for him to take hold of his bow as he had done every time he had done that maneuver before…

…But then she noticed his wings were held impossibly still, nearly motionless, and splayed out at his sides. He tilted backwards, turning head-over-talons in a slow, exaggerated movement, and the ends of his braids began to whip around the sides of his face as he entered free-fall, hundreds of feet above the nearest ground. He was silhouetted against the uniformly gray sky above, and even in his aimless descent, the thin clouds still slid around him in reverence.

Her breath was caught in her throat. Her webbed fingers laced tighter before her chest, as Revali plummeted back to the earth with open wings. His name stuck to the back of her teeth.

He fell into the eye of the storm, and in the space of a heartbeat, all that remained of him were a scattering of blue feathers, twirling listlessly in the fierce wind.

Unbeknownst to her, her feet carried her a few steps forward, towards the edge of the darkened pit. She came to a stop just as the dark water below came into view.

That couldn’t have been it. Could it? He was better than that, she knew it as much as he did. In all the months she had known him, she had heard him boast enough to know that he _knew_ better than to simply drop like a stone when he could easily soar, instead. Mipha’s blood felt sluggish, her movements impossibly slow, as she moved to peer over the cliffside she stood on. She wondered why no-one else seemed to feel the cold bite of fear that was gnawing at the base of her skull, why she hadn’t heard anyone exclaim at the way Revali had simply _stopped_. Was no-one worried at what they had all seen?

She didn’t want to look over the edge. She didn’t want to risk seeing bright crimson mixing with the beautiful cacophony of colors she had seen in the sky and staining that wonderful memory. How could he have ceased like that? Why didn’t he stop sooner, when he could have stayed safe on the solid ground? If Revali laid at the bottom of his beloved Flight Range, broken and flightless, she needed to help. The need to heal was in her blood, just as much as the need to fly was in his. She stretched out, peering her head just barely past the edge, bracing for the worst…

A torrent of wind, stronger than even the tornado that Revali had fallen within, roared forth as she hung over the cliff. It whipped through the ornamental jewelry she wore, along with the delicate webbing of her fins, causing it all to move in harsh flails. She held back the breath in her throat as it fought to finally escape her in a scream, when the force of the gale pushed her back towards the safety of the space away from the edge.

Her eyes shot wide, and disbelief warred with the warm and _very welcome_ rush of relief when a shadow of deep blue rose above her head.

Sharp golden sparks rained down from his talons as Revali twirled back to reclaim his rightful place in the sky, and Mipha’s eyes raised to follow his journey ever higher. Her fingers loosened around each other, becoming less of a death grip with every second that Revali resumed the chaotic dance he had undergone before the fall. She felt like she could laugh, having never felt more grateful for the sight of blue feathers than in that moment.

The sparks in his grasp continued to shimmer, forming a bright trail which followed every dip and turn he made. Her mind compared it to a shooting star, raining down from the heavens— but Revali remained in flight, and his fellow performers darted out of his way as he began to circle the perimeter of the Flight Range. She spun on her heel to continue watching his path with raptured focus, spinning around and around in dizzying circles. It made her feel like she could have been dancing along with him, even grounded as she was while he continued to surge faster in the air.

On his fourth circuit around the clearing, he finally changed his pace.

Just above the lone hut which occupied a corner of the Flight Range, Revali halted. The wind which had been stirred into a frenzy with his movements rushed forth to meet his back, and Mipha felt it hit the back of her tail with a firm pressure. She didn’t stumble, however, too intent on watching as Revali propelled himself directly skyward while the sparks in his talons continued to follow in his wake.

He sailed past his companions, who angled out of his way just in time to avoid colliding head-on with him in his steadfast climb. Within centuries, or decades— or no time at all, it made no difference to Mipha— he came to a familiar halt. Gravity took hold of his form, and he somersaulted over himself as he began to fall once again.

This time, however, his bow and the sparks were now held firmly in his wings, pointed directly towards the earth. He faced the quickly approaching rocks head first, as he was not positioned over the gorge where the whirlwinds swirled and danced, and despite herself Mipha began to feel the familiar twinge of panic overtake the unadulterated joy she felt, in watching such a display of freedom and grace.

She could see his eyes darting over the world laid out before him, the green glint of his irises reflecting in the weak sunlight filtering through the clouds. His head swiveled in minute gestures as he took in what was quickly rushing up to meet him with the promise of a harsh landing if he didn’t cease his fall soon.

One wing held the Great Eagle Bow firmly in front of his eyes, while the other pulled its string taut beside his head. His spine arced backwards as he held tight to the bow, along with the three sparking arrows he held.

Mipha breathed in, her eyes locked on the shimmering golden light.

Revali exhaled.

The bomb arrows flew downward with the snap of a string.

Before she had the chance to blink, the explosives ignited against the blue-and-red targets set into the walls of the Flight Range, where clouds of vicious orange and gray burst into existence. Revali sank into those dangerous forms, following the path of the centermost arrow he had loosed, and a moment later he flew out from the dark, with smoke trailing off his tail feathers and his talons as though it clung to his form.

She couldn’t help herself, or the cheer which rang out from her lips as Revali soared in front of her, moving far more leisurely than he had thus far. She finally unlatched her fingers from each other, and moved to raise one hand above her head in order to wave, delightedly, at the display.

She didn’t miss the way the one emerald eye which faced her locked onto her as she laughed, and she waved more forcefully when she realized his attention was on her. He continued to watch her for a few heartbeats, and in the endless span he seemed to hover in the open air.

More bomb arrows erupted further away, the orange light illuminating off of Revali’s feathers and seeming to set them ablaze in the glow. The explosions sounded so distant from her, as though they were sounding off down the length of an endless tunnel. It didn’t bother her; all her focus was on the Champion who still looked at her with that unreadable expression from before.

All around her, she could barely discern the sound of similar cheers being uttered to ring about the stone enclosure, but she couldn’t bring herself to pay the noise much mind.

Revali proceeded forward, and a torrent of feathers followed in his wake as his countrymen soared behind him.

Minutes later, the group of performers landed before the Flight Range’s lone hut. The force of their wings stirred the snow at their talons, kicking the powdery white ice into a miniature tornado as they all finally ceased moving, as one.

Applause thundered at all sides, overtaking the loud breaths which filled the Flight Range, and Mipha clapped along with them.

The performers took their time in congratulating each other on a job well done, patting one another on their backs and clasping their wings together joyfully. Even Revali seemed caught up in the celebration, despite not making an effort to participate. Mipha smiled when she saw him roll his eyes, but accepted being tugged by one of his companions into a brief hug.

It was strange, she thought. Even after the performance was over, she still couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of him. She watched as he reveled in the successful flight he had engaged in, accepting the words of praise and admiration which were so quickly offered by the Rito around him.

She jolted when his gaze snapped forward, and his head turned to face her directly. Again, as if he instinctually knew where to find her.

She swallowed, as her heart pounded quietly in her chest. She smiled at him, hoping he could see the pride she felt in what she had seen from him over the last two days.

It was a familiar feeling, she realized. The racing thoughts, the thrum of her blood quickening in her veins, were something she thought she only experienced when looking at…

…Oh.

She continued to smile encouragingly at Revali, who nodded briefly at her once she made it clear she was looking at him; but once he turned away from her, the upturn of her lips fell back down. Her eyes darted towards Link, who was giving his attention to Urbosa, as the Gerudo Champion spoke to him in low tones.

He didn’t look at her, even as she stared openly at him, while her heartbeat slowed and the tide of her blood quieted back to a peaceful ebb.

Mipha’s hand curled in front of her chest, while the other fell listlessly at her side.

When her eyes slid away, she noticed the glint of jade in the distance, and she carefully avoided looking in its direction. 

But even as she turned towards Daruk, and threw herself into an eager discussion of what they had all seen, she couldn’t fully ignore the weight of a stare off the back of her head. She could, however, ignore what it could have meant; that would have to be enough, for the time being.

**Author's Note:**

> Whenever I play as Mipha in AoC all I'm thinking is, "Someone get this girl a jacket! She's running around in the snow!"
> 
> And since I can't bundle my girl in cozy Snowquill armor in the game, I took it upon myself to do so here.
> 
> So did Revali, but shh.


End file.
